Let Me Introduce Myself
by Butane Baby
Summary: Prince Vegeta embarks on fatherhood, the sequel. Narrating the documentary of one's life can be both entertaining and difficult, especially while holding a newborn baby. (This doesn't follow any events in Dragon Ball Super.)


Even while bald, tiny and wrinkled, you strongly resemble your mother. I expected it, really – and I am relieved. Once again, Bulma's genes dominated in the attractiveness category. I mean, I would adore you regardless because you're my daughter but, while your mother finds me appealing, _I know what I look like_. It is acceptable that you didn't acquire certain physical attributes – namely, I have a huge forehead and a widow's peak. Also, I am kind of short, although I seem to have grown an inch or two as my power levels have increased. My fists are a bit scarred, too, but I can't help that, being a lifelong warrior. However, I have a body most men would die for. _That_ is a decent consolation prize.

Also, "resting bitch face" is my normal appearance when I'm not smirking at others. I don't have to be angry. Sometimes I'm perfectly content, if not happy, while I'm scowling. I wish others would take this mannerism less seriously now.

Yeah, well, maybe not that much. I still have a reputation to uphold.

Bulma once compared my glares and frowns to insect spray, the kind that scatters and disintegrates doomed creatures for miles. I mean, I couldn't _possibly_ be powerful enough to do this _in reality_ , right?

Impudent woman. "Insect spray" indeed.

Anyway, I scowled, of course, knowing that these otherwise normally intimidating strategies _never_ _worked_ well on her friend Goku. Bulma still teases me, labeling me "pig-headed" because I insist on calling him Kakarot, his birth name, as if it were an awful sin. He's Saiyan after all, like me, and I won't let him forget it. Besides, I reluctantly stopped calling him "idiot" and "fool" after marrying your mother. Actually, I just don't do it around _her_ anymore. Kakarot would be emotionally devastated if I suddenly stopped using insulting nicknames to express my fondness for him. It's my way of thanking that clown for calling me "a really smart fighter," which is stating the obvious, but it is nice to hear it.

I recall seeing fear on Kakarot's face once, exactly, when we first met and fought each other. His visible fright of me was short-lived, much to my irritation, ending in less than a minute before beginning a battle that almost killed us – that should have killed us, I suppose. Now he happily bounces around like a yapping dog with a ball, asking me to come outside and play, which I usually do. He's a superb punching bag and tackling dummy, and I look forward to many more years of using him in this capacity.

Maybe… you'll have the privilege of sparring with Son Goku one day when you're older, Bulla, if he's not too broken down from decades of assault and battery by me. As your father, it would a great honor to see it, but let's keep that our little secret. Sharing these sentiments out loud would give your mother yet another reason to mock me mercilessly. I have feelings too, you know.

I'm getting ahead of myself, though.

I'm holding you now thanks to your older brother, Trunks, who insisted. I'm still nervous, I guess. I didn't do this when he was a child for several years for reasons that I'd rather not dwell on much, so let's move on. Trunks is 13-years-old and the best son any parent could have. I trust him with your life, just as he trusts your mother and me with his. He is wise beyond his years, and I expect you to listen to him when you're older. I learn from him as much as he learns from me. I hope the same will happen with us.

 _My god,_ _you are so_ _small_. After studying old pictures, I can say with certainty that Trunks was basketball-sized: fat legs and arms and a huge head, which he's grown out of, unlike me. I wasn't… there when he was born. Your mother endured much pain while in labor with him. It took years for her to share that with me. That was hard for me to hear, but it was my time to listen. If I could do it all over again…

If I could do it all over again…

I'm here for all of you now, though.

You see, I never expected to have this kind of life. I never thought it was meant for me. Now I'm embracing another life that I helped create – that your mother and I wanted to create.

Bulma is the love of my life. I am glad she is sure of it now. It's been a long, tough road for us both, but she has been and continues to be my biggest supporter. Watch her closely. This woman commands respect and almost always receives it. Her mind is a weapon just as powerful as my combat skills. Her temper can be a pain in the ass, just like mine, but her compassion is boundless.

 _Ignore our arguments_. Trunks has for years. Worry about our marriage if we ever stop arguing.

Your eyes have opened some. They look beautiful, just like your mother's. I know that you see me fairly well, too, unlike a normal human baby would. Another gift my Saiyan genes delivered early! Hot damn!

I wonder what you're thinking. You aren't crying, so I guess you feel safe with me. That's all I can ask for now. It feels right. You feel right.

* * *

"Vegeta?"

"Yeah?"

"You're holding her?"

"Don't sound so surprised, Bulma."

"You've got to be kidding me. How long have I been sleeping, fellas?"

"Mom, I brought Bulla …."

" _Quiet, Trunks_. We have a new kid. Now I have a legitimate reason to get rid of you. Pack your bags."

"But dad!"

"Vegeta, stop scowling at our son!"

"I looked like this when you gave birth, woman. It didn't seem to bother you then."

"That's because I was in pain at first, you jerk! I didn't care what you or anyone else looked like after _forty hours_ of labor! Now bring our daughter here right now. Ouch! Oh, god, that hurts."

"What's wrong, Bulma? Trunks, hold your sister. Maybe you should get more pain meds. Will you listen to me this time?"

"Mom, are you okay?"

"Yes, honey. I'm going to be in pain for a while. Bring me your sister."

"Look, you guys, get it together! _I'm taking my sister_ _into_ _the next room_. Work out whatever this stupid disagreement is really about first, and then I'll return. I'm surprised Bulla hasn't cried yet."

" _Hn_. I'm not."

"Of course you _wouldn't_ be, Vegeta, but I guess our son is right."

"Yes, for once, I suppose."

"Love you too, dad. I'm out of here. Peace."

Looking annoyed, Bulma and Vegeta watched their son stroll triumphantly from the room. No one could mistake him for anyone else's kid, for sure.

Vegeta sat down, placing his hand on her leg. "Since when did he become the parent?"

"Forty hours ago, apparently."

"It might be longer than that. Perhaps we should apologize to him."

"Apologize?" Bulma snorted and laughed. "No way in hell. What's gotten into you? You have a fever or something?"

"You actually thought I meant that? Maybe you don't need the drugs after all."

"Come closer, honey."

"For what?"

"Just do it."

"Okay, fine. Is this close enough for you?"

"No."

"Bulma!"

"Stop worrying about hurting me. Just lay your head next to mine."

"I'm not worried about hurting you. You just have a knack for pushing yourself too hard at the wrong times."

"You can't be serious, Vegeta." Bulma's eyes practically fell out of her head from rolling them. "You _cannot_ be serious." He had some nerve lecturing her on this subject.

"And you _are not_ Saiyan. Labor took a lot of energy from you."

Bulma cocked her head to the side. "So how did it feel, papa geets?" Her lips puckered from amusement. This was fun. She wondered how much she could get away with. Her husband's grouchiness was a poor disguise.

Vegeta gave her a death glare. "Don't _ever_ call me that again - _ever_. How did what feel?"

"Bulla Echalotte Brief. You were holding her hostage about fifteen minutes ago."

"Your jokes are stale."

"You married me, old man. Deal with it." Bulma's eyes fixed on his, this time with seriousness. "Let me tell you a secret. I felt the way you do now when I first gave birth to Trunks. It's crazy, isn't it? I thought to myself, 'What the hell will this kid think of me?' Then I looked at him again…"

"And it felt right."

"Yes."

Vegeta looked down as Bulma touched his arm, inviting him to come closer again. She cupped his face, kissing him, reassuring him. She was so good at figuring out what to say sometimes, he thought.

"She has your wrinkles."

Laughing, he ducked as Bulma took a swing at him.


End file.
